When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No voice in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened. Birds, at least must know It is the change to darkness in the sky. Murmuring something quiet in her breast, One bird begins to close a faded eye; Or overtaken too far from his nest, Hurrying low above the grove, some waif Swoops just in time to his remembered tree.
At most he thinks or twitters softly,
'Safe! Now let the night be dark for all of me. the night bee too dark for me to see Into the future. Let what will be, be.'
Picture - David Goldblatt
Pictures From South Africa
1984
Acceptance - Robert Frost
When the spent sun throws up its rays on cloud
And goes down burning into the gulf below,
No v oic e in nature is heard to cry aloud
At what has happened. Birds, at least must know
It is the change to darkness in the sky.
Murmur ing something quiet in her breast,
One bird begins to close a faded eye;
Or overtaken too far from his nest,
Hurrying low above the grove, some waif
Swoops just in time to his remembered tree.
At most he thinks or twitters softly,
'Safe! Now let the night be dark for all of me.
the night bee too dark for me to see
Into the future. Let what will be, be.'
Picture - David Gold blatt
Pictures From South Africa
1984
Next wall
Connection